The Passing of Time
by A chaotic person
Summary: "It had taken many years, but Jack Frost had eventually conditioned himself not to respond. It wasn't like they were talking to him, anyhow." One-shot.


**Disclaimer: DreamWorks owns RotG, not me.**

"Jack!"

Despite knowing the person wasn't talking to him, Jack Frost's head shot up, looking across the lake where he knew she would be enter the clearing from. The form of a young girl, no older than twelve, wearing a long sleeved woolen dress and a heavy cloak burst into the area right where expected. She slowed to a walk as she neared the edge of the lake, kneeling down on a bit of grass that was very conveniently free of snow or frost.

"Hi, Emma." Jack said softly, knowing she wouldn't hear him no matter how loud he said it. Over the few years he'd been around, he had gotten to know the young girl quite well. Particularly, her habit of visiting his lake, and talking to someone named Jack, who he'd eventually figured out was her brother who had died in the lake.

Emma sat, staring somewhere in the middle of the lake. For a few minutes, she didn't say anything, and Jack patiently waited. Then-

"They said it would stop hurting, after a while." Jack drifted closer, barely able to catch her quiet voice on the opposite side of the lake. "They're almost right," she continued, unaware of his presence. "I don't feel so terrible, and I'm fine most of the time, I'm happy and I even laugh like you always said to. Except, then I turn around to tell you something, and you _aren't there_." It was clear she was struggling not to cry, her voice hitching a little.

Jack had noticed a pattern in her visits. She would visit once a week, not always on the same day, but always the same hour. She would get progressively happier throughout the year, and then, at the end of the year, just after a celebration Jack had learned was called Christmas, she would break down again. It had been the worst the first year; Emma had needed to be taken away by some of the people from the little settlement.

"I look for you from the corner of my eyes, to be sure you aren't sneaking up on me, but you aren't there." Emma sobbed once. "You haven't played any tricks in almost _four years_."

She pulled her knees to her chest, and sat there, shaking and shivering, crying silently. Jack was at her side in an instant, murmuring a few soothing words that fell upon deaf ears.

"I-I miss you so much, Jack. Why," her voice broke. "Why did you leave? It isn't fair! You're supposed to be here too!" Emma collapsed, falling on her side in the little circle that snow as absent from, curling into a small ball.

"It's okay," Jack tried to comfort her. "Your Jack might be gone, but you don't need to cry!" He tried to smile, but it was hard when the sobs of the little girl seemed to cut into him. "Look! I made the lake pretty for you! Please be happy…"

Jack tried to place a hand on her shoulder, but it went right through her. A haunting sensation shot through him, a sort of pain that buried itself in his heart, and pulsed throughout his body, leaving him unable to breathe. Jack extracted his hand quickly, shuddering. The girl he'd been trying to console didn't notice him, and his (lack of) touch didn't affect her.

Emma's silent cries eventually slowed, and she was left hiccuping in the snow. She stood, and gazed around the lake.

"Bye Jack… I love you." Emma followed her own footsteps back out of the clearing, retreating until it was just Jack alone, grieving his inability to comfort the girl.

* * *

"Jack!"

It had taken many years, but Jack Frost had eventually conditioned himself not to respond. It wasn't like they were talking to _him_ , anyhow. Sitting in the high branches above his lake, Jack sat, swinging his legs, and wondering who the person was talking to. There wasn't anyone near the lake right now, and he couldn't think of anyone currently living in Burgess named Jack.

"Jack?"

Jack swung himself down from the tree, laughing as he landed lightly on his feet.

"Jack, I can hear you laughing."

Jack frowned; he was the only one laughing around here. He spun in a circle, just to be sure there wasn't someone else here he had missed.

A short boy with messy brown hair, innocent brown eyes that looked at the world curiously, and a puffy winter coat ran out onto the lake from within the forest without hesitation. He looked right at Jack and smiled a gap-toothed grin.

"Jack, I knew you would be here! Why didn't you answer when I called your name?" the boy, Jamie Bennett, looked puzzled for a moment, before smiling again. "You were just playing a prank on me, trying to convince me you weren't here, right?" He laughed. "It didn't work!"

"Jamie." Jack smiled at the younger boy. "Believe it or not, I wasn't trying to trick you." He smiled mischievously. "Not this time, anyway."

Jamie tilted his head quizzically as he moved to stand beside Jack at the edge of the lake. "You weren't? Then why didn't you answer me?"

Jack chuckled, but a soft chuckle full of melancholy. "I didn't think you were talking to me."

"That's dumb; who else would I be talking too? There's no one else here, aside from you."

"Well," Jack said as he sat on the ground. "I knew a girl once; she often came to talk to Jack, even though nobody else was here."

"Oh." Jamie was silent a moment, and he joined Jack in sitting, apparently not caring if he got snow all over his clothes. "There was nobody there? She was just talking to herself?"

"Not quite." The winter spirit smiled down at Jamie, treasuring the moment, even if the topic of discussion hurt a bit. "She came to talk to her brother, who had died in the lake."

"That's nice." Jack looked at Jamie in askance when he said these words, and Jamie rushed to clarify, tripping over his explanation a little. "That she came back to talk to him, I mean. Not that he died. Obviously." Jamie looked up at Jack. "Did you… know this girl?"

Jack nodded slowly. "Yeah. I liked her a lot. I remember when she died."

Jamie placed a hand on Jack's shoulder, sensing that the topic was an old wound, and that nobody had bothered to properly heal it.

Jack slowly turned his head and looked at the small hand on his shoulder. Carefully, as though afraid, Jack put one of his hands on Jamie's shoulders. The two of them sat like that a while, until Jamie started shivering, each of them with a hand on the other person's shoulder.

And this time, Jack's hand didn't go through.

* * *

 **A/N: Jack's sister and Jamie are two of my favorite characters and I was in the mood for some sort of sad stuff so here. Critiquing appreciated. Is everyone in character? Are my grammar and spelling correct? Is there repetition of words? Thanks for reading!**


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